Dionisia Hatzis
3 min readNov 16, 2020

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A historical “Popcorn Alley” house in Telluride. (Look up the history for some scandalous tales)

2020. HOME.

2020. Home.

2020. A year in which ‘home’ took on a potent meaning beyond our understanding of it in our lifetime.

A year in which home became our EVERYTHING.

A place of safety. A place of protection. A place of security. A place of work. Of belonging. Of socializing. Of Zooming. Of teaching and connecting and watching the news…and counting numbers. So many numbers.

So many numbers in 2020.

And…such a strange year to not have had. A. Home.

A year of one-way tickets and drives.

One-way doors. Because some only swing one way, unlike the swinging doors of a saloon. Saloons.

Bars.

What are those anymore? Has anyone even been to a bar this year?

A year of bars. Bans. Barred in. Barred within. Banned from seeing others. Banned from seeing ourselves.

Bars.

Bar.

Bare.

Bare open.

Bared upside down.

Like a turtle with no shell.

Like a human in 2020.

Upside down, downside up — can one even tell the difference?

Home.

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